


you held my hand easily enough

by fishscalesky



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Corn - Freeform, Corn Mazes, Getting Lost, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Scarecrows, Sirius lives with the potters, Swearing, Thrift Shopping, coffee dates, halloween eventually, meet strange, remus is a lonely boi, sirius is afraid of the dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishscalesky/pseuds/fishscalesky
Summary: “Fucking corn, corn, stupid shitty corn, I hate corn,” Sirius snarls viciously, lashing out and smacking a few of the dry stalks away from his face. “Fuck off.”Enter Remus, flying in at stage left.At least he's not doomed to die alone.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 147





	1. dry husks and rustles

Sirius has half a mind to drop to his knees and scream until James finds him. 

Fuck James, fuck Peter, fuck himself for agreeing to come into this godforsaken, unholy place and getting _lost._

He _cannot fucking find his way out_.

“Fucking corn, corn, stupid shitty corn, I  hate  corn,” Sirius snarls viciously, lashing out and smacking a few of the dry stalks away from his face. “Fuck  off.”

He never should have come with James and Peter, he’d known it was a bad idea. It couldn’t possibly have ended well (what kind of masochistic ponce came up with corn mazes anyway?) especially with his shitty sense of direction. 

And of course, all in the spirit of good Halloween fun,  there were no maps of the veritable _labyrinth_ anywhere, not on the signs, not on the brochure Sirius had surreptitiously tossed before they entered (he regrets it now) not on the website- he doesn't need a _map_ on the website, he just needs to know where he is- Sirius yanks his phone out of his pocket, nearly sobbing with relief. Google maps can get him out of  _anything_ -

“No fucking reception!” Sirius nearly screams it, switching to a hoarse whisper at the last second, shaking his phone at the sky. “Why  _me?_ What did I  _ever_ do?”

 _Oh_ , he thinks, his stomach sinking like a stone with dread, _the sky,_ t he gradually darkening sky, the sky that’s blaring _time's up time's up time's up_. 

“Oh no,” Sirius mutters, his white-hot flash of anger quickly turning to something darker. "Oh no, not good, not remotely anywhere near good." He taps his screen, dreading what he'll find. 

Three numbers blare at him, glowing accusingly as if to say _how did you manage this one?_

It's 7:47 p.m. Dusk. Sirius is alone in a corn field at dusk, with- he checks his phone and nearly cries, _why_ didn't he charge it before they left- seventeen percent battery. 

This cannot get any worse. 

“Not okay, not okay, not okay,” Sirius whispers, spinning in a quick circle. He doesn’t recognize a thing about his surroundings- just corn, corn, and more stalks and ears and dirt and leaves and corn. 

He looks up at the sky, trying to gauge how long he has until full dark. The sun is fading fast, and the few shreds of wispy clouds are pink and orange against the backdrop of dusty blue. 

He can still see well enough, at least, but if he uses his phone's weak light it won’t last for long. Mr. Potter has their only flashlight. _Think._ Sirius is well aware he has a tendency to overreact, and that he just needs to take a moment to calm down and reassess the situation. He inhales, tasting the brisk chill of the autumn air and thinly sweet smell of corn. He takes stock of the small juncture he’s standing in. He’s got four paths to choose from and no earthly idea which one goes back to the farmhouse where the maze’s entrance and exit are located right next to each other. 

“Okay,” Sirius says to himself, taking a deep breath and willing himself to breathe. “Okay. This is fine. You’re not really _lost_ , this is a corn field, there’s only so much of it there can be.”

The sign, standing proudly at the mouth of the dirt road leading to the farmhouse, boasting the country’s most extensive corn maze, _Godric’s labyrinth_. 

Well, fuck. 

“You’re eighteen years old,” Sirius tells himself out loud. His voice sounds wavering and uncertain. Bloody hell, of course it is- he’s not certain of anything but  this is not good, he's well and truly _not fine_. “You’re going to be  fine.”

He scours the ground for scuffed footprints, feeling small and ridiculous. He’d been with James one second, laughing too loudly and telling him to piss off (he hadn’t meant it, if he’d known it would actually happen-) and the very next second he couldn’t hear a thing and he was  alone. 

_I know for a fact the five of us weren’t the only ones in this unholy, cursed place,_ Sirius reasons, his thoughts a panicked sort of meandering, _fucking contradictory_. So where are the other occupants? He’d take anyone, really. He’d take anyone’s company but his family- his  not-family, his no-longer family.

 _ Five, _ he thinks despairingly. _How did I lose FIVE people just like that?_ He snaps his fingers for emphasis on the thought.

“Walk,” Sirius mumbles. “You’ve got to get out before they get upset, or else they’ll leave.”

Will they? He doesn’t think so, but he can’t be sure. They’ve been wonderful since the Blacks disowned him three months ago, but _this_ is just a nuisance and an  inconvenience.  He couldn’t keep himself out of trouble for one evening, he had to go and get himself stuck in the worst-case scenario, of _course_. 

Sirius is glad he, despite being positive he wouldn’t be cold, brought a jacket to go over his t-shirt. A gripping October chill is fast descending over the maze, and he wishes he hadn’t worn his ripped jeans. 

He picks a path at random, seeing as he doesn’t have another option or any leads, and sets out walking. 

"Is this the smart option? Very likely not. Am I doing it? Yes."

It’s creepy. 

God, it’s fucking creepy. 

Sirius tried to focus on his raggedy breathing, but every few seconds- and steps- he has to stop because he swears he's heard the corn rustling in a not-at-all natural way. 

Every time he stops there’s nothing, and he starts walking again just a little shakier. 

It’s dumb. It’s stupid. It must be. He can’t be being watched, there’s _nothing there_. 

“I swear to god, James,” he mutters when he stops to take a breather, his voice sounding jarring and loud in the unnatural quiet of the corn maze, “When I get out I’m never letting your stupid face out of my sight again.”

His thoughts are getting louder as the sky gets darker and shadows begin to seep into the maze like ink. 

Sirius’s breath quickens with the blackening darkness encroaching his personal _space_ , get _away_. 

He’s good at keeping secrets. No one but him and Regulus knows this, but Sirius is deathly afraid of the dark. He never found the right time to tell James, and as an eleven year old in awe of having a  friend,  he didn’t want to seem like a coward jumping at shadows. 

He’s now very,  very  jumpy about shadows. 

The shadows are jump-worthy, he tells himself with a slip of a nervous laugh, dark and huge and encroaching on the path, accompanied by another rustle that is  closer,  and a sound like a breath, a definite breath. He knows if it's another person he should be glad for company or help _(serial killer,_ his mind suggests helpfully) but that _sound_ where there shouldn't _be_ a sound is Sirius’s tipping point. 

With a silent, resounding  _fuck this_ ,  Sirius breaks into a run.

He sprints, something like relief snapping in his brain. Maybe it’s because now that he’s moving, he’s running  away, towards, forward,  he doesn’t feel so helplessly alone anymore. As if when he stops running he’ll be where he wants to be. Funny how deliberately, knowingly obtuse brains can be. 

His feet hit the ground in a jagged cadence. He’s running  wildly,  dashing, half considering abandoning the path and throwing himself into the undulating sea of corn stalks. The drooping, crackly leaves reach for him, scraping his cheek and well, he's veered off the center of the path, might as well see how much more _lost_ he can get-

“Hey!” Someone shouts from behind him, accompanied by pounding footsteps. 

Sirius is not proud of what happens next. 

At the yell, he freezes for a split second. Adrenaline takes over, lending him an extra burst of speed. In the space of a fraction of a section Sirius’s shoe snags on an uneven dip in the ground and he’s falling, falling, hurtling into the rocky hard-packed earth, not even enough time to finish the thought _this is going to be pain_ -

A hand grabs his upper arm, yanking him to a stop and wheeling him around. His momentum carries him forcefully into the person’s chest, sending them both tumbling to the ground. The air is expelled from Sirius’s lungs in a massive  _oof,_ echoed by the boy who grabbed him, sounding more like a _fuck_ than a gasp. 

“Fuck,” the person wheezes again, after a handful of long seconds of just panting. He sounds raspy. " _That_ was dumb."

Sirius has to agree, it was a stupid move. Although if he hadn't been caught, he'd probably be bleeding and nursing a few injuries right about now. When he falls, he falls _hard,_ whatever the circumstances. 

He slowly comes back to his body, and the warmth of the boy's underneath him. They’re lying on the dry, crackly grass in a heap of tangled limbs. The side of Sirius’s face is pressed into a sweater that smells like soap and autumn seasonal spices. He starts to get up, quickly rolling off the boy, who stays flat on his back and stares up at the sky.

Sirius's cheeks heat. He _hates_ blushing, hates how his emotions are always written so clearly across his face. He dusts himself off, unwilling to break the silence.

The boy rolls his head towards Sirius, a lopsided grin on his lips. A silver scar nicks one corner of his mouth. "Well, hi."

"Hi," Sirius says, nonplussed. Isn't the boy going to be mad at him for taking them both down?  “I’m sorry,” are the next words to come out of his mouth, and when the boy shoots a quizzical glance at him, he continues with “For tripping and dragging you down with me.”

“To be fair, I kind of leaped on you,” the boy counters, sitting up and brushing his elbows off. "I'm willing to take part of the blame."

“What for? Why'd you grab me, I mean?" Sirius corrects himself. 

“I thought you were going to cleave your skull in two,” he says matter-of-factly, shrugging. “It would have been a nasty fall and very traumatizing were I to witness it.”

“Yeah, well, you took the brunt of the fall, I think,” Sirius apologizes. 

The boy brushes him off with a laugh. “Again, I jumped on you, didn’t I? It’s on me.” He stands, wincing a little, and sticks out his hand. “Remus Lupin, nice to meet you.”

Sirius cautiously shakes it. Remus’s grip is warm and strong. “Sirius Black. You too, thanks for, uh.” He awkwardly waves a hand at the patch of brown grass they’d just gone careening into. “That.”

“No problem,” Remus says easily. “I am so fucking glad to find another person here, I was about to give up and scream at the top of my lungs and hope someone heard me.”

“I was pretty close to having a full blown mental breakdown,” Sirius admits shakily. “I fucking hate corn, I never want to see a maze again.”

“I’ve never agreed with anyone more,” Remus agrees fervently. “Stick together?”

“Please.”  Sirius itches to grabs his hand to shake again, although he doesn’t really need to. He just wants to feel Remus’s hand, the solidity of another person. 

"So, let's take stock." Remus settles his hands on his hips and turns in a slow circle. He's wearing a brown jumper, the sleeves pushed up past his wrists. Sirius quickly and un-creepily scans his face. Freckles, brown eyes, messy curls Sirius wants to tug the tangles out of. He's biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed. "Have you got a light?"

Sirius blinks. "No, just my phone. Seventeen percent battery."

"I don't even _have_ my phone," Remus sighs. "Ah, hindsight is twenty/twenty and foresight is blind."

Their footsteps crunch on dead grass. 

Sirius decides to keep a running list of things he now hates. Low battery, corn mazes, nighttime, Unknown Rustling Sounds, his brain for supplying infinite images of murderers around every corner, and scarecrows.

Fucking. Scarecrows. 

It's one of these aberrations that causes his second most potent embarrassment of the night, the first being running like a maniac and then falling on top of Remus. 

The dark shape, unnaturally tall and slender and unmoving rising out of the already-shadowy corn like an apparition is perfectly terrifying and heart attack-inducing. His first thought is incoherent alarm, his second is _fuck,_ and his third thought is the ever- eloquent _grabpersonrunscreamfightorflight._ Sirius shrieks and grabs Remus, fully prepared to go down fighting to save this adorable jumper-clad jump-on-strangers-to-save-them-from-fall-death boy, before he realizes with a flush of mortification when it doesn't move it's just a scarecrow.

Remus sees it a second later and chokes out a strangled _"What-"_

Sirius starts to pull away, mortified, but Remus recovers from his shock and loops an arm around his waist like it’s nothing. “I hate scarecrows,” he declares. “Want to name it?” 

They name the scarecrow Jerry. Sirius waves goodbye to Jerry as they quickly backtrack away from scarecrow junction. 

The next thing Sirius adds to his list is _unhelpful signs in corn mazes that aren't about getting out of the maze._

"Hang on." Remus stops, tugging on Sirius's arm. "Sirius, shine the light at the sign, please?"

Sirius obliges, stepping close to beam his faint flashlight. Remus reads aloud. "'In the occasion of getting lost in the maze,'" he starts out slowly, "'We send out search parties regularly every morning.' That's great, guess we'll just sleep here then," he adds sarcastically to Sirius. "'They pick up three quarters of the wandering souls, give or take a few tortured wraiths.’ Amazing!"

"That's... nice," Sirius says finally. They break into nervous laughter at the same time.

"Not funny," Remus groans. 

"Not remotely funny."

Sirius takes a shaky breath, wishing he wasn't so affected by all this, and makes a blind grab for Remus's hand. He needs the warmth and reassurance that he's not alone. He's surrounded by darkness and wind wending its way through shivering corn stalks and insects and darkness, but _he's not alone_. He just needs the steady reminder and hopes Remus will be nice enough not to shove him away. 

Remus doesn't push him away. He's still, fingers flexing in Sirius grip, before he clasps Sirius's hand firmly. “Sirius?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds heavy and small at the same time, anxious and resigned for what comes next. It's a silly fear, he thinks, being afraid of the dark. 

“Are you afraid of the dark?”

Sirius squeezes Remus’s hand tighter. “I- yeah,” he admits softly. It’s fully dark around them now. He’s not sure what he would be doing right now if it weren’t for Remus. No, he does know- he knows exactly what he'd be doing if he were alone. “Honestly if you hadn’t found me I think I would be crying somewhere, definitely panicking.” 

It takes more than he expected to say it, but hey, Remus is basically a stranger, right? It's not as if this will come back to embarrass him. 

Remus is quiet. Then he squeezes back. “You found me too, it’s not just the other way around.”

“Oh?”

“You're the dark? We're even then, because I hate being alone.”

“Well,” Sirius says, Remus’s fingers laced tightly with his, Sirius’s jacket around Remus’s shoulders because he felt the chill of the night far more strongly than Sirius, “You’re not.”

"Thank you," Remus says quietly. He shivers, momentarily letting go of Sirius's hand to zip the jacket up to his chin. He scoops Sirius's hand back up and they keep walking. 

“Who’d you come here with?” Sirius asks after a few minutes of quiet breaths and grass-hushed footsteps. 

Remus hasn’t stopped shivering. He shrugs, pressing his lips together. The soft dim light from Sirius’s flashlight highlights the shadow of his jaw and hollow of his collarbone. He frowns. “Didn’t come with anybody.”

“You’re here  alone?”  Sirius isn’t sure he’s heard right. “But it’s so fucking creepy.”

Remus smiles faintly. “I didn’t fancy getting drunk at Halloween party with a bunch of half-friends,” he sighs, lifting his shoulders and letting them drop like a marionette with the strings cut. “And I needed some space to think about things.”

“You could have gotten serial killed,” Sirius says eventually. 

“You’d save me, wouldn’t you?” Remus tacks on a charming smile. 

“I  could have been the serial killer.”

“So could I,” Remus counters easily, “and yet you held my hand easily enough.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius mumbles, his face burning. 

Remus laughs. He opens his mouth to say something else, but a violent rustle in the stalks cuts him off.

Sirius jumps and instinctively presses closer at the sound, gripping his hand and holding his elbow with his other. “Remus...”

“Probably just an animal,” Remus says uneasily. “Rat or something, sure there's tons in here.”

“Right,” Sirius agrees, shakily, taking a small step away from the corn encroaching the path. "Lovely thought." The dry stalks of the other edge tickle his shoulder blades like reaching fingers and he jumps away. “God  _fucking_ damn it.”

“Are you okay?” Remus tears his eyes away from the edge of the path where whatever’s stirring the corn has set up its residence. 

“I feel like I’m in a horror movie, Remus. And I’m very much _afraid_ of the _dark_ , _”_ Sirius emphasizes. “This is  not  a good situation to be in.”

He inhales. And exhales. He can keep it together this much, ignore how much of his composed exterior he's already lost, he can gather his frayed edges and attempt to stitch them back the way they were. This he can do. 

“Good point.”

The shifting in the field has faded, but the back Sirius’s neck prickles alarmingly. Maybe he’s paranoid, maybe not, he doesn’t have a strong desire to stick around and find out.

“Remus,” he whispers finally, his voice sounding vulnerable and small, “should we maybe walk again?”

Remus looks torn. “Everyone says if you’re lost to stay put, so you can be found...”

“We’ve already terminated that line of logic, I think,” Sirius counters. “Staying still isn’t going to do much for us now, and I’m getting really fucking freaked out right now.”

“But-”

“I hate making decisions,” Sirius cuts in, casting a nervous glance at their shadowed, tall, arching pale corn-ghost surroundings, “but right about now I will probably collapse in a puddle on the ground and maybe cry if we don’t do something.”

No chance to feel self conscious- Sirius is well acquainted with his fears and his limits, and standing still is  not  calming his frayed nerves. 

“Me too. Alright, let’s go.” Remus turns a half circle, not loosening but tightening his fingers twined with Sirius’s. “This way, I’m pretty sure.”

“I like having company when I die. Glad you’re here.”

“Same.”

And so they set off.

Sirius isn't sure how long they walk, his flashlight merrily bobbing along, jouncing with their steps. The dim yellowish light doesn't bring much comfort, but it does warn them of ditches and obstacles to either jump over or trip on, so it's good enough. 

"How isn't your phone dead yet?" Remus asks at one point. When Sirius stops to check, he lets out a breathy laugh. "Three percent. I'm impressed."

"That last one percent will last you for a few more hours, I think we're good."

Sirius jiggles his phone, wishing the flashlight was just a little brighter. As he does so, the light abruptly cuts off, plunging the two of them into pitch darkness. 

"Well, fuck," Remus says after a weighted pause.

"It's dead."

"Fuck," he repeats. 

The conversation switches to more serious topics as they make the collective decision to forge, albeit more slowly than their previous pace, into the blackness.

"What do you think happens when we get out?"

"When?" Remus snorts. "You're optimistic. Realistically we'll die here."

"No need to be _pessimistic_ ," Sirius lobs back, bumping Remus with his shoulder and knocking him a few steps to the side. "Dying here isn't realistic, you realize."

Remus just shrugs. "I mean, I don't know. I don't have anyone here. What would your family do?"

"My family..." Sirius has to force himself to remember the faces of Euphemia and Fleamont Potter, not the snarling visages of Walburga and Orion. "They- I. I don't know. Not sure if they're still- here."

They must be. James wouldn't let them leave, would he? 

"Of course they are," Remus says easily, surely. Sirius glances over at him, wondering how he can be so positive. "I find it difficult to believe anyone would leave anywhere without you."

"Maybe they didn't realize I wasn't there," Sirius stresses. "I haven't been with them for very long."

"Trust me," Remus assures him, "I'm pretty sure you're near impossible to forget."

Sirius lets himself smile. 

"Are they foster parents or something?"

"Sort of," Sirius starts haltingly. 

"I didn't mean to pry, don't tell me if you don't want to, Sirius, it's okay."

"My parents kicked me out because I'm gay and I went to live with my friend James," Sirius rushes out, half glad and half anxious. _Should I have left out the gay part, Remus is quiet, he's_ -

Remus squeezes his hand. "I'm sorry," he says. "That's really shitty."

Sirius can't decide if he likes the security of being unable to read Remus's expression in the dark or the anxiety that accompanies not knowing what Remus is thinking. 

"Wait, fuck," Remus says suddenly, pulling on Sirius's hand. "Sirius, look."

"Where?" Sirius steps into Remus, stumbling over his foot. "Sorry, what are we looking a- _oh."_

"Lights!" Remus is practically bouncing. "Fucking lights, I think we made it!"

"We've still got to get to them." Sirius reminds Remus, hating being the voice of reason. 

Remus turns and in the nearly-nonexistent light from the moon, his eyes glimmer. "I guess. Or we could..."

"Could...?"

"Scream," Remus suggests, logically.

"How about yell instead so they don't think we're being serial killed," Sirius counters. 

"Or stay put here, they might come to us."

"Might not."

"We could go toward them?"

"My sense of direction is shit and yours probably is too."

"What do you want to do then?" Remus sounds like he's struggling between being amused and being frustrated. 

"Shh," Sirius cautions. "I hear voices."

"Stunning," Remus deadpans. "We already knew they were there, asshole."

"Why am I an asshole?" Sirius demands. "They're coming from-" he waves vaguely to the right, "That way."

"Brilliant. Coming?" Remus is unshakeable as he pushes past Sirius, still gripping his hand, clammy palm to clammy palm. Normally Sirius would be a tense snarl of self-consciousness in this situation, but if it doesn't bother Remus then it doesn't bother Sirius, he supposes.

"Coming," Sirius pushes through a sigh. It's irrational, maybe, but fuck, can this not end? He's been petrified for most of it, cold, hungry, tired, afraid, but he's been with Remus, and he doesn't want to go back to regularly scheduled life anymore. Not yet, not now. 

The universe (or corn maze employees) have different plans. 

“SIRIUS!”

Before Sirius can fully process James’s shout, he’s grabbed in a hug of epic proportions and spun around with the force of it. James holds him close to his chest, tightly, trembling. Sirius stiffens at the initial impact but when James's scent hits him he relaxes into the embrace, screwing his eyes shut.

“I was so worried about you, you fuck,” James says finally. “I thought you were dead. People are looking for you, Sirius, fuck, Mum and Dad were so worried.”

“Fuck,” Sirius says. He’s shivering, jittering, the evening of stress and anxiety finally catching up to him. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“What? No, don’t-” James swears softly and does a double take, peering at him closely. “Don’t _you_ apologize. Wait, who’s this?” He wheels towards Remus, who's standing uncomfortably to the side and peering intently at his double-knotted laces. 

“Remus.” Sirius grabs Remus’s hand. “He was lost too and we found each other." James's eyes widen at that, minutely, before he shoots an indiscrete _oh really_ eyebrow raise Sirius's way. Sirius ignores him, gesturing between him and Remus. "Remus, James, my best mate. James, Remus.”

"Nice to meet you, Remus," James says graciously, holding Sirius's arm with one hand and extending the other for Remus to shake. "I'm James Potter, aka this bloke's brother."

"Jamie," Sirius says, unbearably touched. 

"Mum and Dad are over there," James tells Sirius, keeping his smile fixed. "Sirius, I'm so sorry we lost you, when we realized you weren't behind us-"

"Not your fault, I'm a dumbfuck," Sirius cuts in. "Where's Peter?"

"Left."

"Rat."

"He's got a curfew he was late for, you know how Mrs. Pettigrew is," James sighs.

Sirius barely acknowledges this and spins to Remus, who's fluffed out his curls to cover his eyes. Sirius doesn't like how it makes him look like he's hiding. He tries to smile. "Hey, Remus, can we give you a ride home? Or anywhere?"

Remus blinks as if he's surprised to be acknowledged. In the few minutes since they were found, he's curled in on himself, seeming ten times smaller and shyer. "Oh, I- I'm fine, I'll just call my mum. Won't be a minute. I'll, uh," he waves in the general direction of the parking lot, "Go wait over there. See you later?" His voice pitches up. 

"Yeah," Sirius says distantly, inexplicably panicked. Remus can't leave _just like that._ He can't just go, can he?

Remus seems to take his lackluster tone for disinterest and nods to himself before heading away, and Sirius can barely pause the incessant whirring of his mind to think _wait no don't go please._

Sirius could run after his lanky figure, grab him, demand his phone number, say any number of _thank yous,_ but Euphemia and Fleamont have decided they're calm enough to approach and before Sirius can implore Remus for something more than a polite _bye,_ he's swiftly pulled into a motherly embrace. 

His chance is lost. 

"Who is he?" James whispers urgently as they're buckling their seatbelts in the backseat.

"I told you, I met him in the maze."

"Mate, you've got to give me more than that."

Sirius heaves a sigh. He can't explain this type of melancholy. "His name's Remus Lupin, I got spooked when I heard him and started running, I tripped and he grabbed me before I could knock myself out on a rock, bringing us both down. We wandered around until we got found. That's it."

"That's it," James repeats, nonplussed. "Why d'you look so depressed?"

"I'm not."

"You are."

"What if I don't see him again, Jamie?" Sirius bursts out, twisting in his seat to face James. "I want to, and what if I don't?"

James startles back a few inches, but he doesn't look too surprised by Sirius's vehemence. "You will," he states assuredly. 

"You don't know that."

"No," James concedes reasonably, "But I still think you will."

 _I hope._ Sirius settles against the window, pressing his forehead into the cool glass. "Maybe."

James sighs. A few seconds later he rests himself against the curved lines of Sirius's body, placing his head on Sirius's side. "Siri..."

"What?"

James shakes his head. "I'm glad we found you."

"Me too."


	2. chocolate croissants and secret gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius runs into Remus again (quite literally, but no casualties).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are! enjoy some pureness <3

“Get out of the house, they said,” Sirius mumbles to himself, noting that his laces are untied and he should fix that. “It will be fun, they said.”

Peter's off visiting some old aunt, James has rugby practice, and Sirius needs caffeine. He keeps his head down walking down the street, accidentally shoulder-checking someone on the way. He mumbles an apology the same time they do, already past him, but wait a hot second, he recognizes that-

"Remus!"

Remus turns at his voice, his face registering surprise and then a smile. "Sirius!" he answers with equal enthusiasm. "I didn't realize it was you, sorry."

Sirius brushes that off and bounces right up to him, hardly believing his luck. Remus is here, in the wan sunlight, wearing a jumper with the sleeves rolled up (and lo and behold, a thread bracelet in every color of the rainbow Sirius can think of) smiling and shading his eyes. Sirius shivers delightedly. _He's here, I'm here, James, you miracle, I love you and your unerring accuracy_.

"Nice to see you out of corn mazes," Remus half-smiles.

Sirius shudders. "I am never going near another corn maze ever again if my life depended on it. Kill me before I'm forced to enter."

"Sure thing," Remus offers. He wraps his black silver-tasseled scarf (who the fuck gave him permission to look like _this_ in things like _that)_ more securely around his neck and grins at Sirius. "I like your braid."

Sirius instinctively reaches up to touch it, running his fingers over the ridges. "Thanks. James did it. He's got a secret talent for braiding."

"A hidden passion?"

"Definitely. I'm his test subject mostly, waiting for the day he woos a girl with his plaiting techniques alone."

"Who wouldn't fall at his feet?"

Before Sirius can realize what he's doing, he grabs Remus by the shoulders and looks up and down his body. "Okay. Remus, I have been desperately striving for normalcy but I find I must address this."

Remus has a faint smile gracing his lips. “By all means.”

"How the fuck do you manage to pull this off?” Sirius bursts without preamble.

Remus grins sheepishly. “I’m going to need elaboration.”

Sirius takes a step back, passing the back of his hand over his eyes and gazing beseechingly up at the sky. “Wow, okay. So I’ve been wanting to see you again, right?” Remus makes a small noise in the back of his throat that Sirius files away for later analyzation. “And I’m just walking, ’cause it’s a beautiful day, right? And look who I see. Well, first I see that fucking shirt, Remus, and I go ‘who is this brilliant person wearing this explosively colorful treasure’ you know, as you do, and I look closer and mind you this is the first time seeing you in broad daylight so I squinted a bit, but then it’s like an epiphany because _Remus_.” His voice falls away.

“Oh,” is all Remus seems to have to say.

Sirius claps his hands. “And it looks fantastic on you, which is a feat in itself, because everyone else I know would probably look like a riotous disaster of colors. I see all this and then I’m vibrating because I have been kicking myself for letting you leave like that last time, it was terrible form and I feel awful.”

 _Smooth. Real smooth redirection, Sirius._ He waits with bated breath while Remus forms words.

“Don’t feel bad,” Remus says eventually and vaguely.

Sirius huffs. “Absolutely. Glad I got rid of that, then. My conscience is cleared and I'm a new man now. Thank fuck you're here for me.”

“Fuck off,” Remus groans, exasperatedly.

Sirius does not fuck off. “Do you want to get coffee?” Before Remus can answer, he scrambles to add, "With me?"

_Oh, what the everliving fuck, you disaster, he knows it's with you-_

"Love to," Remus smiles. 

They walk close together, elbows bumping every few steps. Sirius does his level best to pretend not to notice. 

Remus follows Sirius into the coffee shop, glancing around to assess their seating situation. Most of the tables are filled, but Sirius spots an unoccupied little table. "Do you want me to grab that seat?" Remus asks.

"Sure, I can order for you."

"I'll just have a hot chocolate, I'll pay you back."

"Oh, no, you don't have to-" Sirius begins to protest, but Remus just shoots him a quick smile and edges toward the two-person table near the front windows. 

When Sirius sits down a minute later, planting their table number an inch over the edge of the table, Remus cranes his neck to read it and smirks. "Sixty-nine?"

Sirius snorts, loftily, and makes sure to look down his nose at Remus in a look he's perfected over years of posturing battles with James. "What are you, thirteen?"

Remus hides a smile behind a sweater-pawed hand. He'd tugged the sleeves down when they entered the air-conditioned shop. "Twelve."

"Your maturity astounds me."

"It should!"

Sirius catches himself wondering, more than once over the course of their back-and-forth, _where the fuck, Remus, have you been my entire life?_ He's funny and sarcastic and sweet, and despite their unconventional, less-than-ideal meeting, he genuinely seems to like Sirius, which is saying something. Sirius cringes every time he thinks about how scared he'd been, holding Remus's _hand_ , for gods' sake.

 _It's easy to scorn the dark when it's light,_ he muses during a pause in the conversation while Remus checks his phone. _What a metaphor._ _I should put that on a t-shirt._

"Sorry about that," Remus apologizes, placing it down on the table. His lock screen is a constellation Sirius recognizes- it's his, Canis Major. He's not sure why that pleases him- maybe Remus is an astronomy nut, it's likely a coincidence- but still. "I had to reply to a friend, she tends to blow up my phone if I don't answer."

"No worries," Sirius says easily. "When I ignore James he goes into helicopter mom friend mode, it's a little funny."

"How cruel can you be?" The corner of Remus's mouth ticks up. Sirius's heart quickens, his attention dragged to that small silver scar nicking Remus's lip. He stifles a groan. Since when were scars that hot?

Sirius starts to say something, to distract from the flush no doubt pinking his cheeks, but he's interrupted by the arrival of their drinks. The blonde waitress leaves with a flirty smile at Remus, which he returns politely. Sirius unfists his hand, curls his fingers, flexes the tension out of them under the table. 

An adorable little laugh bubbles out of Remus, redirecting his attention. "Sirius, oh my god. It's so small."

Sirius can't stop his own laughter. Remus's hot chocolate looks like it could be downed in two sips, at the maximum. "That was the only size, what the fuck. It's like a shot glass."

The smile Remus gives him is bright, his freckled nose scrunching. "Oh, sure," he says dryly, his tone at stark contrast with the beam he's bestowing Sirius with. "Find me knocking back hot chocolate shots past midnight at the bar like nobody's business."

Sirius tamps down a comment about how he'd pay to see that, or anything Remus does, and settles with a joking "Show all the regulars how it's fucking done."

Sirius's habit of dropping eloquent fucks into random places in sentences startles an abrupt laugh out of Remus. "High tea, anyone?" He picks it up with one pinky extended, still grinning that lopsided grin, looking so ridiculously cute Sirius isn't sure he's going to be able to make it through today without spontaneously combusting. 

Remus does, in fact, drink his hot chocolate in two sips. Sirius spends a little longer on his iced coffee, sipping daintily while Remus ribs him the whole time about cold drinks in October. 

-

"What are you going to be for Halloween?" Remus asks as they wander through the doorway of a thrift store, sucking on a caramel he found in his pocket. _Past me is my favorite person,_ he'd grinned, and Sirius was struck again with how beautifully Remus smiles. 

Sirius averts his eyes from his face, breaking free from the rapture Remus so effortlessly captures him in, rifling through a rack of truly hideous Hawaiian shirts to distract himself. "I have no earthly idea."

"You're running out of time, you know," Remus teases. "At this point you may have to just go as yourself."

Sirius sniffs. "Hardly original."

"Sorry, Mr Halloween expert. What would be a good costume, then?"

Sirius mulls this over. James is going as a deer, which he's gone as since he turned thirteen and decided he was too old for any other costumes. A Prongs costume involves brown clothes, white painted dots on his cheeks for some reason, seeing as deer don't have dots on their _face_ (but he refused to let Sirius throw paint at his arse) and a truly impressive pair of antlers that have pride of place on the top shelf of his closet since he and Sirius had the find of a lifetime in a dingy backstreet dollar shop years ago.

Sirius, for his part, tends to bounce between costumes. Vampire year is his favorite (his fifteen year old self had some good ideas) but since then Halloween has been as low-maintenance as possible. But Remus looks so excited, flushed cheeks and bright smile, that Sirius needs an idea and a good one, quick.

His eyes light up when it hits him, the pure unadulterated genius of it. Sirius gives a small _oh!_ of excitement and pulls an orange-brown jumper off the rack, eagerly brandishing it in Remus's face. It's not quite Remus-style but it serves to get his point across, at least, because Remus's expression changes almost comically with realization and Sirius beams triumphantly. "I'm going as you."

Remus's eyes widen even further, flicking between Sirius and the jumper. "Oh _fuck_ no."

"What? Why not?" Sirius hadn't expected Remus to not even give it a chance. Time to bring out the big guns, then. He gives Remus the Pleading Eyes. "It's a great idea!"

"It's not.” Remus says resolutely.

"It is." If it's an argument Remus wants, Sirius is gearing up for it already. He will win with logic, he has that in spades. "Give me one good reason it's a bad idea."

Remus gives no ground, folding his arms and stubbornly lifting his chin. "It's lame."

"Lame?" Sirius splutters. " _Lame?_ Oh, I know you did not just say that."

Remus cocks an eyebrow in an unmistakable challenge. "I did and I'm not budging."

"Come on."

"You come on!"

"It's not lame just because it's kind of unoriginal! Besides, if we do it well, we can make a new name for it. Fame. Fortune. Imagine that. Our names in the history books, written on the subway walls like the words of the prophets-"

"Simon and Garfunkel isn't going to win me over," Remus says, but a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. 

Sirius just blinks hopefully at him. 

Remus sighs gustily and unfolds his arms. "I have myself copyrighted, I'll have you know, so you can't go as me without my written permission until you're prepared for me to take legal action."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Is going as Remus Lupin that good?" Remus inquires. "No one'll recognize who you are."

Sirius flaps a hand confidently. "So? It's elite, not everyone's going to get it. Besides, I'm not doing it for them."

"No power-play for Halloween costume supremacy?"

"Not for me." Sirius smiles winningly. He's so close, he can taste his victory. He plays his last card. "And... _you_ can go as _me_."

That's it, done, it's a done deal, he's won Remus over, he can see it in Remus's eyes. He has half a mind to do a little victory dance, but he's not sure it'll be appreciated. He settles for a few seconds of silent _yesyesyes_ and hurriedly irons the smile off his face. 

Remus spreads his arms wide. "Alright, fine, sure, I’ll do it. Who would pass up the opportunity to impersonate Sirius Black?" he smirks at Sirius's enthusiastic _exactly, you've got it,_ reasoning, "But do I _look_ like I own a leather jacket?"

“We can get you one,” Sirius forges on, undeterred. "Easy, I'm sure they've got one in here somewhere. If they don't, you can just wear mine." He shakes a sleeve in front of Remus's face to make his point. 

Remus shivers a little, an unreadable expression crossing his face. "Uh-huh. Right. Well, I guess I'll have to outfit you in proper Remus Lupin attire."

"Does that mean I need one of your jumpers?"

"Most definitely," Remus assures him quickly, without a trace of uncertainty. "But I'm not lending you any of my socks, you can have your own quest to find those."

Sirius bounces after him deeper into the store. "I'm sure I can find weird socks in here, don't you think? Will any that they have here be weird enough for authentic Remus Lupin?"

Remus glances over his shoulder to fix him with a flat stare. "Honestly, fuck you."

Sirius bites back an _if you insist._ _How cliché would that be?_

"Don't diss the socks," Remus continues idly, flicking past a stand of polo shirts. "You're just jealous, you wish you had my style."

"Well, I will soon!" Sirius says brightly. 

Remus can't seem to argue with that. He just flicks Sirius a middle finger and forges deeper into the shop, leaving Sirius with a vague "I'll be back there somewhere."

Sirius catches a glimpse of bookshelves in the direction Remus is heading and smiles a hopelessly sappy little smile to himself that's purely inflicted by Remus Lupin's chronic adorableness. 

He sets off to find socks.

-

"What'd you find?" Sirius elbows Remus on their way up to pay. 

Remus's eyes brighten at the question. "Some really cool books," he says eagerly, turning so that Sirius can read the spines. "Secondhand or thirdhand, but that's the best, in my opinion." He acknowledges Sirius's affirming hum with a little nod. "This one's poetry, this one's _Anna Karenina_ but it's annotated by the previous owner. I love reading people's notes and thoughts and adding my own so that the next owner has a commentary. It's like I'm stepping into their thoughts and I read the book with what they think added onto what I think added onto the book, and it makes it a thousand times more interesting, sometimes." He takes a breath, now fully invested in this speech, and continues while adjusting the four books under his arm. "Of course sometimes I don't read them because I only want what the author has to say, and then I can read it twice. It's wonderful to remember- it's like- connecting with someone I've never met and will never meet. You know?"

At the end of this Remus lets loose a captive breath and lifts and drops his shoulders, his cheeks flushing embarrassed pink.

Struck speechless, Sirius can only nod. Remus has never said so many words at once before and Sirius is here for the impassioned rants. He's never been _more_ attractive, fuck. 

"Remus," Sirius says, awestruck by this boy, this creature of weird (unique) socks and old-man jumpers and annotated books, who holds stranger's hands because they're afraid of the dark and downs hot chocolate like he's knocking back a shot, who has freckles splashed over his face like paint flung from a careless toddler's hand and cinnamon-brown curls falling into his eyes and a name like Remus Lupin. 

"Remus," he says again and finds he doesn't have any more words. 

Remus laughs and looks down at the ground, shifting from foot to foot, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. "I- sorry about that. I didn't mean to say so much."

"Oh god no," Sirius bursts out, realizing what Remus must think take his silence to mean. "No, no, don't apologize, please do not. Ever. I loved it."

Remus smiles a shy smile and does an acknowledging head-bob. He takes a side step towards the counter. Sirius realizes with a start the line is gone, and Remus lifts his bounty. "Ready to pay?"

Sirius lets Remus pass his books and a soft green jumper he'd found on one of his clothes passes. He unintentionally pictures Remus wearing it- the dark green would bring out the gold in his eyes, and he'd look so soft, hugging him would be like-

"Sirius?" Remus is standing to the side, gesturing for him to put his haul down. "I'm paying, by the way."

"You are not-" Sirius automatically protests, but Remus waves him off. 

"You paid for our coffee and my shot glass of hot chocolate, it’s my turn."

Sirius accepts gracefully and lays out the three pairs of wildly mismatched socks, turning to send a sly grin Remus's way. "I picked the most outlandish, do you approve?"

Remus is already grinning. "Very much so. Watch out though, you don't have much time before I steal your jacket."

Sirius smiles and thanks the man behind the cash register. He nods towards Remus, who's dropped to his knee to retie his unraveled shoelaces. "You two are a cute couple."

Sirius feels alarm wash over him the same second Remus chokes and flies up. He clears his throat, red-faced, and lets Sirius tell the man, stumbling over his words and trying not to look like he's staring at Remus, that _thank you sir, but we're not together_.

"Oh." The man looks puzzled, glancing between the two of them while removing the paper sticker tags from their buys. “I’m so sorry for assuming, you look very much like a couple."

"Thanks," Remus mumbles, his face still searingly red as he hands over a handful of money. "It's all right, keep the change."

 _Honestly_ , Sirius thinks, heart sinking as he follows a still-blushing-fiercely Remus out the door, it's not that big of a deal, is it? Remus looked mortified, but was that level of embarrassment really necessary? So what if they did look like they were together, they weren't, wasn't that the point-

Sirius sneaks a glance at Remus, who fiddles with one of his thread bracelets. The rainbow one. Somewhere he finds the courage to broach it. 

"You know," he starts. "It's not that bad, is it? He was just-"

"I know."

"Then why'd you react like that? It's _not_ a big deal."

Remus stops suddenly in the middle of the street and swings around to face him. "It's not bad, I didn't mean to act like that.”

"Then why did you?" Fuck, Sirius sounds sullen. 

Remus blinks as if he doesn't understand the question. "I don't know- I was just caught by surprise. I guess.”

"Mm." Sirius nods sharply. He fights the urge to rub his face and sigh. "Right. So it's almost three. Are you hungry?”

Remus steps closer, as if he'd been expecting something much different. “What?"

"Food," Sirius clarifies. "I know a place- shut up, I actually do. We can get sushi or something, you can read your books.”

"You'd be okay with that? Me reading?" Remus checks. 

"Yeah, of course," Sirius answers. "If I weren't talking you'd be halfway through one of them already, I'm sure.”

Remus and Sirius agree on foregoing sushi (their second choice) in favor of pastries from the little cornerstone bakery Sirius is a regular patron of. Sirius is absolutely unsurprised to find that, chocolate being Remus's favorite thing in the history of everything, he orders two _pain au chocolat_ and another hot chocolate. 

"So tell me," Remus says as they depart the store, licking a smudge of chocolate off his thumb and speaking around another bite of croissant, which shouldn't be as hopelessly endearing as it is, "Where's this place you said you know?"

Sirius's eyes light up. "Before we go I have to let you know," he warns Remus seriously, "It may steal your heart. You may never want to leave and then I'll have to go on supply runs to keep you fed while you refuse to move. Just so you're prepared, this might happen."

Remus's mouth quirks up. "It's a risk I think I'm willing to take."

"Excellent!"

The walk's a little farther than Sirius remembers, but Remus keeps up a steady conversation, half of it preaching the gloriousness of that little bakery. "I can't believe I've never been there," he sighs rapturously, crumpling the empty wax paper bag in one hand and offering the last bite of his chocolate croissant to Sirius. "I could live there, try and stop me."

"I wouldn't dare." Sirius takes the croissant, making a blissful noise in the back of throat. A few minutes later he gestures grandly to a sign that says _Rowena Trust Public Library_ and ushers Remus through the gate. "Almost there."

"Sirius," Remus says, hushed, "Is this a library?"

"Indeed 'tis," Sirius beams, "But we're not going to the library, we're going through a little path and four stone steps up to a garden behind the library."

Remus's head swivels. "Garden?"

"Mm." Sirius nods. "No flowers this time of year but the trees look beautiful."

"They do," Remus murmurs, following Sirius around the back of the library and up a bush-obscured set of stone steps. Sirius found this place when he was fourteen and searching for somewhere to be alone, and yes, it's probably sickeningly cliche and sappy, but Remus is the first person he's brought here. 

Remus, he thinks, is a wonderful first person to bring. 

"Well, shit," Remus breathes. Their footsteps crunch on fallen autumn leaves, but the October sun shines brightly, and Sirius doesn't feel the least bit cold with Remus fairly radiating warmth next to him. " _Sirius_."

"Hm?"

Remus plonks down on the grass, scooting towards where Sirius has laid out his jacket in a makeshift blanket. He shares another _this okay_ look with Sirius before relenting and cracking open one of his many literary purchases.

Sirius sits in contented silence for a few minutes, listening to the birds, observing tranquility of this square of tucked-away leaf-littered ground and bare boned trees. The sky is a crisp, clear blue, and Sirius thinks with a tinge of melancholy that comes with unfettered happiness that this, he likes. He wishes he could frame this moment, preserve it in glass like the treasure it is. He looks to Remus, or the top of his head, as his attention is entirely captured by whatever's in his book. Remus's reading face, his brows knitted together and a smile curling the corner of his mouth, the fabric of his jumper soft against Sirius's own skin, the cinnamony scent of him. This, he is sure, belongs in a museum, a museum comprised of snapshots of those irreplaceable moments. 

_I want to kiss him,_ Sirius thinks with stunning clarity. _I want to kiss him._

Remus feels Sirius's gaze on him and looks up, lifting one nicked eyebrow ever so slightly, and _oh,_ hang, draw, quarter and stick him with Cupid's arrow, there is no possible sight more beautiful than Remus. Sunlight positively glows on his skin, his dusting of freckles, filtering through his eyelashes and brightening his eyes to liquid fractals of honey. Sirius is little more than a melted puddle of wanting. 

Remus smiles a little, blinking up at Sirius, and Sirius can absolutely not control what happens next.

He lunges forward, sliding one hand to the back of Remus's neck and twisting his fingers in Remus's hair. There he hovers, waiting for confirmation, indication Remus wants this too. He doesn't have to wait for long. Remus melts into his grip, simultaneously pushing himself up on one elbow to close the space between their lips in a kiss that seals Sirius's racing thoughts to a stuttering standstill.

And oh, _oh_ , is it lovely.

"Remus," Sirius has the wherewithal to pant, "Are you-"

And what, he wonders, was he trying to say? He's completely forgotten as Remus murmurs a gloriously breathless "Mm, no, later, later, now _this_ -" and recaptures his mouth. 

Sirius finds he's quite speechless. It's not as if words would suffice anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen I am aware how much I use the word fuck and I am not gonna apologize
> 
> if I feel motivated I may eventually write a little bit with Halloween, but hey, whoever knows? this is the end *cue dystopian thriller music* so thank you dearly for reading my little self-indulgent fic thing. stay safe <3


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